


every day is a winding road

by SafelyCapricious



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Crack, F/M, Gen, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, Pining, Road Trips, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-03-30 01:13:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 5,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3917680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SafelyCapricious/pseuds/SafelyCapricious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A place for all my NON-AoS prompts</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. well that didn't work (Zutara)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunk!Prompt  
> korrasamie asks:  
> I'll send you a prompt! Zutara + "Well, that didn't work."

Katara has been in the prison for three days. The guards are actually very nice, even if they are very careful to only give her miniscule amounts of water at a time. 

She is well aware that she could blood bend them very easily or even sweat out enough to bend that. But, well, the food is really good. 

Like, she is positive the cook had to be one of those famous ones she’d heard about existing in places that weren’t overrun with attacks prior to Aang’s win over the Fire Lord. 

She’s sure she’ll get rescued soon enough anyways, there is no way that everyone isn’t well aware that she’s been gone for far too long. But until then she’s damn well going to enjoy the food, the company and how surprisingly comfortable the cot in the cell is. 

On the fourth day someone gets shoved in there with her. He’s lanky and he trips, landing half on her and then immediately pushing himself away. 

Zuko is easy enough to recognize, even without the scar. 

He won’t meet her eyes, looking away from her and mumbling, “Well, that didn’t work.” Under his breath. 

She blinks and then bursts into laugher. The guards are already good company, but he’s the best company. “Oh, it’s fine. It’s almost lunch time. Just wait.”

He stares at her like she’s grown a second head, but once the food arrives he totally understands.

Sleeping, curled up with him that night, might be the best part though.


	2. college road trip (Peggy/Steve)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> korrasamie asks:  
> Pairing: Steve/Peggy (or any pairing of your choosing with Peggy) + College + Road trip. :)

Peggy hummed along in agreement with Angie’s outrage over the phone, waiting until the other woman was done to add in, “I think you handled it perfectly. Let me know if – Oh hell.” Her gaze was fixed on a small sign she hadn’t noticed in the window of the gas station until right this moment. 

“Pegs? What’s wrong?” Angie’s voice brought her back to herself and she shook her head, hopping off the hood of the car. 

“I just realized that someone in the gas station is with the Friends of Humanity. I sent Steve in by himself.” She peered through the grimy window, sure enough, Steve was scowling up at a man over a foot and a half taller than him. “I have to go, Ange. I’ll call when we’re back on the road.”

“Okay, English. Go knock out the mutant-hating scum and save your boyfriend. Call me if you need bail money. Though I’ll have to send it with Buck or Nat, I’ve got work tomorrow!” And with that cheery ending, the other woman hung up. 

Peggy stuck her phone in her pocket and headed inside to rescue her maybe-they-were-maybe-they-weren’t boyfriend from the cashier. 

***

Steve shot her a warning look from the driver’s seat when she removed the soggy bag of peas that he’d bought her from her knuckles. 

She rolled her eyes and pointedly put them on the ground at her feet. “They’re defrosted, Steve. My hand feels fine.” 

He made that exasperated clucking noise that she and Nat were convinced was actually a kind of Morse code that he and Bucky had created amongst themselves. 

She rolled her eyes and reached out to cover his hand where it rested on the gearshift. It was a sign of how far they’d come that he didn’t start and stare at her like she’d put her hand there accidently, instead just shooting her a sheepish grin. “Really. I’m fine.” 

He nodded, shifted gears, and then grabbed her hand and nodded. “I believe you.” 

She watched him, curiously for a moment, before asking what had been bugging her since they’d left the gas station. “You left money for the peas. Why?”

He made a face and focused on the road, saying, “That ignoramus said that the mutants were stealing from him. I didn’t want to give him more fuel.” His ears turned a delightful shade of red, the color sufficing over the rest of his face within moments. She knew he would try to convince her he was flushing because he was angry, but she knew better. He was blushing because of calling someone a bad name in front of her. Her favorite part was the knowledge that the blush did go all the way down. 

She shook her head in exasperated amusement before leaning forward and kissing his cheek. He glanced at her with a half smirk that made her want to try to talk him into pulling over on the side of the empty road for a moment, but they were only half an hour from their motel. It could wait. 

***

She stared at him incredulously. “What do you mean you don’t like being little spoon? Everyone likes being little spoon!” She shook her head and chided herself, “I shouldn’t be arguing about this. Being little spoon is the best. I’m glad you don’t want it.”

But part of her was a bit offended on his behalf. Had no one ever taught him the joys of being little spoon? That was just criminal. He made an amazing big spoon, this wasn’t about that, it was just about how comforting it could be to be held. She’d honestly thought he was insisting on being big spoon because this thing with them was still so new and undefined. Not because he actually had something against being the little spoon.

He pulled at bits of the bedding, frowning down at it. “It makes me feel small.” 

She stared at him and straightened her back. “Do you think it makes me lesser when I’m little spoon?”

He jerked back so hard to stare at her that he almost fell off the bed, squawking, “What! No, of course not!”

She nodded, having known the answer before she asked. “Good. Because I don’t feel small when I’m little spoon. I feel protected and loved and cared for. And I am going to make you feel those things too.” 

His blush spread at quite a speed, and by the time she was reaching for him he was bright red. He continued to object and she paused before actually manhandling him, asking, “Does it really bother you that much? I promise, my intention is not to ever make you feel small.” 

He let out a breath and rubbed a hand through his hair. “Alright. We can try it. But just this once, okay?”

She nodded her agreement with a grin.

By the next morning she knew she had made a mistake, but somehow she enjoyed the nightly argument over who got to be little spoon more than she did actually getting to be little spoon.

***

She could hear Steve talking to someone, probably on Skype since she could hear the vague murmur of another male voice, through the bathroom door. She finished drying her hair before opening the door. Her suspicions were confirmed when the voice from the speakers became much clearer. 

She rolled her eyes and propped her hip against the doorframe of the bathroom, crossing her arms and watching in amusement as Steve gesticulated a story to a wildly laughing Bucky on the other side of the computer. 

It was a total exaggeration, she knew since she’d been there. The cashier she’d punched out was now another foot taller as well as several stone heavier with solid muscle. 

He was such a dork.

For one thing, he was cheerfully swearing up a storm with Bucky but he couldn’t even call someone an ignoramus in front of her without blushing. Hell, the last time he’d tried to call someone a ‘dickhead’ in front of her he’d stuttered so hard she was worried he was having an asthma attack. 

She wasn’t sure where he’d gotten it in his head that it wasn’t polite to swear in front of ladies, though she suspected it was from his late mother. She regretted having never had the chance to meet the woman. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by Steve’s blue streak stuttering to a stop. For a moment she thought that he had finally noticed her, but when she looked up his gaze was still fixed on the computer. Then she heard Nat, saying a phrase that made both men squawk. 

She couldn’t help it and laughed out loud. Steve looked up at her, eyes wide and face red. She arched an eyebrow and stepped away from the door, slipping her robe off her shoulders. His eyes went dark.

“Sorry-Buck-I-have-to-go-right-now-bye-Nat!” He managed in a rush, slamming the laptop shut and shoving it onto the couch. 

She grinned and he stumbled in his rush to get to her. She didn’t mind. 

She thought, maybe, that she could just accept it. He was her boyfriend.


	3. could be worse (Clint & Nat)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> korrasamie asks:  
> Prompt: “Could be worse.” Pairing (platonic): Clint and Natasha

“Could be worse.” Clint said, as they trudged along.

Natasha stopped to stare at him incredulously through soaked bangs, “How.”

Clint rubbed at his chin, “Erm.”

She scoffed and started to walk again. After a moment he’d caught up, “Okay, I have it. We could each have three broken bones.”

“Keep talking and you will.” Her voice was dark as they made their way through abandoned streets.

He clutched his heart with his good hand, “That hurts, Nat, that hurts deep.”

“Not yet, but it will.” She wasn’t even trying to keep him from hearing what she was saying, even though she wasn’t speaking loudly out of respect to the fact that people had recently been trying to kill them and were probably going to try again.

“Oh come on Nat, it’s not so bad.” He said, holding his good arm away from his body as if to encompass the whole situation. It would’ve been more impressive if his right arm wasn’t broken in two places and strapped tightly to his side.

She rotated, carefully not to jar her broken toe and pointed at him with her left hand and spoke slowly and carefully, “I have a broken rib and toe, your arm is broken in two places and we haven’t actually had time to set it, I haven’t eaten anything in eleven hours, all I can taste is blood and mud, it is pissing down rain on us already and you are going to blithely tempt fate by saying that it could be worse. Do you have a concussion, is that what this is?”

He grinned, bright, “Aw, you’re worried.”

She let out a hard breath, nose flaring, and turned back on her heel and started to march away, keeping up a low chant of, “I can’t kill him he’s my friend, I can’t kill him he’s my friend.” Between one sentence and the next she has a gun in her hand and has taken out the enemy combatant who was silently moving through the shadows towards them.

She kept up her chant as Clint limped after her, still grinning. 

They’d gone an extra two blocks before she finally cracked, “I guess Stark could be here.” 

Clint laughed, “See? It could be worse!”


	4. heart (Wanda & Sam)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> korrasamie asks:  
> Drunk fic prompt! Sam/Wanda (romantic or otherwise, bonus points if Vision is in there somewhere) + heart. Interpret as you will!

She wasn’t sure what she expected when she joined the “New Avengers”, but for Captain America to give her required time with a counselor was not it. Oh, it made sense. Pietro had been mostly dead for nearly twelve hours and she had not handled it well, but still. 

The therapist was fine. The group sessions were…less fine. Most of the people there were warriors – often soldiers who had been responsible for the sorts of invasions she’d lived through and hearing that they had trauma about it didn’t make her feel like she wasn’t alone, instead it made her happy. 

Wilson caught on to that quickly and had pulled her from the group.

Oh, he’d been nice enough about it, saying things about how her grinning when they talked about their inability to sleep at night because of guilt was not helpful in the group environment although it was a perfectly reasonable way of coping. 

So she ended up in a group session with him, Vision – who was having trouble adjusting to the fact that after saying he didn’t want to kill Ultron had been the one to deliver the killing blow, her brother because of his being dead thing, some agents from some organization called SHIELD and Captain America. 

It was awkward and it was uncomfortable. And although she apparently didn’t make anyone there uneasy with her smiling or odd reactions, it was also true that she didn’t want to reveal any of what was really bothering her in front of her brother. 

Wilson asked her to stay behind, one day, and she did. 

She could never remember quite what he said, but she ended up sobbing against his chest after she ripped out her own heart to show to him.

The next day she started to heal.

It was slow, it was hard, but it was good.


	5. pining (Bucky/Nat)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> korrasamie asks:  
> Prompt: buckynat (or a pairing of your choosing), roaring 20s, pining.

“What’s eating him?” Sam asked, polishing a glass as he leaned against the bar to chat with his favorite customer, even if Steve never had more than a glass of giggle juice, he was always real polite and helped break up fights and keep the dolls safe.

Steve shook his head, shrugged, “Nothing special.”

Sam eyed the cat they were talking about and arched an eyebrow, “Level with me, Stevie, he involved with somethin’ bad? He looks like he’s in a huff.”

Steve laughed and swirled his glass, “Nothing so hard, no, he’s just got a crush on a chick who apparently took some bird for a ride and he’s all balled up about it.”

“This bearcat he’s hung up on wouldn’t be our Nat, would it?” Sam asked, reaching for a new glass to clean. It was early yet, and most of the customers wouldn’t come in for a while, so it was good he got cleaned up since he was never impressed with the cleanliness of the other bartenders.

Steve jerked like he’d been shocked, “How’d you know that?”

Sam laughed, “I get an earful, especially when they’re out on the roof and I get to watch it all. I don’t think the story about her holdswater anyways, that sister is ruthless as all get out, but I don’t think she would’a gotten anything for taking Banner for a ride. He’s probably just gotten all busy with that science stuff again.”

Steve frowned, all serious furrowed brows, “I think he’s more burned up about the thought of her going on a date more then actual worry that she bumped off some fella.”

Sam shrugged back, and saw someone flag him down at the other end, so he called over his shoulder as he left, “Then he should ask her to be his sweetie pie, Nat doesn’t like a milquetoast.”

The night picked up from there, and it was hours before Sam was able to get a breath edgewise. Steve had disappeared somewhere in the meantime, though a quick glance over the dance floor showed him cutting a rug with his British broad.

Nat was serving, sashaying her way between the tables and nimbly dodging hands that wanted a little caress and squeeze. (All of the regulars knew better, but there were plenty of turnovers at the juice joint that there would always be attempts, and as long as they didn’t actually connect she never had a problem with the tries.) She was dressed in green and black sequins and tassels and was a bright glint in the dim club.

Darcy was on the stage, crooning out a heart stopper and crooking her finger at various mugs in the audience – all of which would probably have to be escorted off the premise by her brother in law, Thor, before the end of the night.

It took him a moment to spot Bucky in the crowd, but when he did he could only roll his eyes. The guy was trying to mush Sif, which she seemed wildly amused by but was bound to end in disappointment, while still trying to catch a look at Nat whenever she swished by. And literally every time Nat walked by without seeming perturbed, his face fell.

“Jeepers creepers!” He muttered to himself, shaking his head and turning away from the painful scene. Just in time too, as Mr. Stark swept in, Miss Pepper on his arm. And as Mr. Stark owned the joint, that called for being on his best behavior and pouring a lot more drinks, as the man was a fan of plying others and himself with alcohol – and of causing chaos.

So of course, after his own handful of drinks and watching Nat and the other waitresses dodge hands, he cheerfully stood up on a table and announced, “Alright, cats, kittens and the rest of you animals! You’ve all gotten the icy mitt from these lovely tomatoes,” he gestured expansively at his waitresses, and from where he was Sam could see Nat draw a line across her throat slowly while making eye contact with the big cheese. Stark hesitated, but only for a moment, before continuing on, “Anyways! I have a proposition! If any one of you can match our lovely Russian Rose, drink for drink, you’ll win a dance with the waitress of your choice! I can’t promise what’ll happen after that.” And he winked.

All of the waitresses had relaxed at the challenge, and Sam couldn’t help but shudder. Because while he was sure a good number of the fried eggs would take the last statement to mean they’d get to go all the way, he had a much better idea that it was Starks way of warning everyone that he wouldn’t protect anyone from the petite redhead if they got fresh with her or any of the other waitresses.

Sam didn’t even have the time to bang his head against a wall before Nat was taking up a position on one of his stools, “I figure, let ‘em line up here, we all start at the same time, once everyone else’s passed out I’ll go back to work, yeah?”

Sam sighed, “Who’s paying?”

Nat shrugged, “Not me, I figure one of the butter and eggs men will, if not Tony.” And sure enough she was right, with ten jobbies crowding the bar to participate, and to pay for the lady’s drinks, including, Sam was dismayed to note, Bucky.

He started to line them up, and watched them get thrown back, Nat always a second quicker than everyone else. It took four drinks before the first mac dropped out. Followed quickly by the next seven. They were at eight drinks, and there were only two guys and Nat. Bucky was there, gripping the table, potentially to stay upright, and the other man was listing seriously on his stool. Nat looked exceptionally bored. The other fella literally dropped out, falling backwards, and Sam really hoped he did have alcohol poisoning. Nat threw her drink back and Bucky was just sitting there, staring at it, before shaking his head and looking at Sam with surprisingly sober eyes, despite his grip on the bar, “Nah. She wins. I don’t want to dance with a babe that don’t want to dance with me.”

It was the first time in a while that Sam had seen Nat thrown for a loop, and she watched Bucky walk away from them, weaving but managing to not spill the drink in his hand as he headed for the table with Steve and Peggy at it. She made an odd little face, lips pursed, then shrugs, throwing back the drink belonging to the other fella, and standing up, “Well, back to work! Tell Tony if he ever pulls shit like that again without warning me he’ll be looking for new ladies.” And she was off, sashaying like she hadn’t just put back nine drinks in quick succession and taking orders like she’d never stopped.

The rest of the night was standard, ending with Thor and the bouncers three only having to bum rush two or three guys out the door.

The next few nights were calm, or as calm as the speakeasy ever got. Only slightly unusual in the fact that Bucky continued to sit sadly and drink, making moon eyes at Nat. At least he’d stopped trying to flirt with Sif. (Good, because the woman’s on and off mobster boyfriend seemed to be back around.)

It was a full week before Sam was faced with a splifficated Bucky at his bar, frowning into the empty glass that Sam had been filling with apple juice for the past twenty minutes. (Which was very good, given how quick the other man had been to down it, and Sam knew Steve would be upset if he gave his friend alcohol poisoning.)

“She’s like, the swellest kitten ever, Sammy. She’s the bees knees, the cat’s pajamas, the elephant’s eyebrows!” Only practice made it possible for Sam to distinguish the slurred speech of the other man, and he reached over and patted him on the back.

“I know, old boy, I know, it’s okay. Here, have some more.” This time, at least, he considered the apple juice that Sam gave him before drinking it. Sam was mostly just glad that Nat wasn’t around to see this – which was possibly why he’d gotten so smoked tonight when Nat wasn’t working. There had been some ranting earlier about how lucky whoever she was with was (though Sam was pretty sure that she was at home, having an exciting bubble bath and probably reading with her cat.)

After about an hour of feeding Bucky apple juice, the man started to get straight, and Sam decided that enough was enough, so he told Carol, who was the main waitress tonight, that he was taking ten, and he sat down next to Bucky to talk.

“Look, Buck my man, I know you’re stuck on Nat, and that’s beautiful, she’s a fine catch, but you’ve gotta try somethin’. This moping isn’t attractive, you’re a real wet blanket, and I’m not sayin’ you have a chance with her, cause only she knows that, but she isn’t going to cut a rug with a killjoy, ya follow?” He tried to keep his voice compassionate, hand on his buddy’s shoulder as he delivered the truth.

Under his hand, Bucky’s shoulders straightened, “I hear ya. So what should I do?”

“Clean up, put on your glad rags, straighten up and ask the girl out. Worst that’ll happen is she’ll give you the icy mitt and you can still watch her from afar and sigh. But offer to take her somewhere nice – somewhere that isn’t where she works, mind! Give it the old college try, sweep her off her feet.” He offered the man a firm clap on the back before seeing that Carol was motioning for him and making a face. He stood up, but leaned down, “Ya hear me?”

“I hear ya, I hear ya.” And he did seem to be thinking it over.

“Good, next Tuesday is her next day off, so set somethin’ up.” And he was off to go back to work.

The rest of the week passed in peace, with Bucky nowhere to be found and Nat swanning around as normal.

It wasn’t until Wednesday when Steve came up to the bar, obviously distraught, and reached over and grabbed Sam’s shirt and pulled him in close, “I think Bucks in trouble, he’s got some sorta terrible rash and he’s dazed and confused all the time now!” And Sam looked, and sure enough, there was Bucky, looking dazed and confused as Nat sauntered away, and him with a massive hickey taking up all of one side of his neck.

Sam laughed.


	6. not what she said (Bucky/Nat)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DRUNK FIC: "NO, THAT IS NOT WHAT SHE SAID."
> 
> ASKED BY ANONYMOUS.

“She said to cut the green wire,” Natasha said, leaning over his shoulder and staring at the bomb he was trying to dismantle.

Bucky grunted. He’d given up trying to get her to leave – not that he’d tried for long, he knew better.

His wire cutters were about to cut through the wire in question when Sam spoke up from where he was standing over his other shoulder. “No! That is  _not_  what she said.”

Bucky paused and turned his head slowly to look at Natasha who sighed and slouched over his shoulder. “Okay, fine. It’s not. But this training exercise is dull. And this is the worst game of telephone ever. Can’t you just blow us up so I can go back to what I was doing earlier?”

Bucky could feel Sam poking Natasha, he was doing it with such force that she rocked against his shoulder. “No we cannot! I have a bet with Steve. Like hell am I letting us lose just because you’re _bored_.”

Natasha gave another gusty sigh before, quick as lightning, snatching the wire cutters from his hand and clipping the orange wire than the white one in quick succession, then breaking the screen with the side of the cutters and tugging out a chip that she slid into her phone – which she then tossed to Sam. “Fine, now we’ve won. Can we be done now?”

Bucky turned his head to watch her in a little bit of awe. He really did not understand how she always knew the hidden steps of these stupid training routines that Stark and Stevie had them running, but she  _always_  knew.


	7. rumpelstiltskin steals puppies (Emma Swan)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DRUNK PROMPT: NO ONE WANTS RUMPELSTILTSKIN STEALING THEIR PUPPY, PLEASE! :D
> 
> ASKED BY SHINEYMA.

Emma rubbed the bridge of her nose. She wasn’t entirely sure where all of these new fairy tale characters kept coming from – but they did seem to just show up like clockwork.

And they always brought trouble.

Or, in this case, ended up with trouble.

“Please, you have to help us!” the kind of suspiciously pretty darkhaired girl said, hands clasped under her chin.

Emma sighed again before saying, “Look, no one wants Rumplestiltskin stealing their puppy, but if you signed an actual contract for that I’m not sure I can help you.”

The girl burst into obscenely attractive tears and Emma sighed and handed her a tissue.

She couldn’t say she was unhappy that Gold had decided on running a petshop instead of a pawn shop, but this was getting ridiculous.


	8. songbirds (Sifki)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DRUNK PROMPT! "SONGBIRDS ARE LITERALLY HELPING YOU GET DRESSED RIGHT NOW."
> 
> ASKED BY ILOSTTRACKOFTHINGS.

Sif turned her best unimpressed look on Loki, tugging on the chain that connected their wrists just to prove a point. She wasn’t entirely sure what the point was, beyond the fact that she could interfere with his handwriting. Because while the chain wouldn’t come off and he couldn’t cast any magic with that hand, Odin had clearly overlooked the fact that only one hand was chained.

He looked at her with an innocent expression as he let her jerk his hand this way and that, and she grit her teeth. “Are you serious right now?”

He blinked green eyes at her, trying and failing to look innocent. “Am I…serious?” he asked, as if he didn’t know.

She jerked her hand again, hard enough this time to make him stumble forward a step. Of course, because it was him he kept going until he was standing right up against her knees.

She scowled up at him as he gazed, seemingly peacefully down at her. “Songbirds are literally helping you get dressed right now.”

He blinked and turned his head to observe the bird that was attaching the wrist guard to his left sleeve before turning back to her. “Well…They can undress me as well, if you’d prefer that.”

And then he was leering at her.

She sighed and rested her face in her palm.

This was day four and she’d already gotten tired of knocking him out every time he said something that deserved it.

Now Odin, on the other hand, well, it was going to be a struggle not to try to punch him the next time she got summoned to the throne room.

She didn’t even have to look up to know that he was still leering at her.

“I hate you,” she said, unconvincingly.

His returned, “I hate you, too,” sounded decidedly like something else.


	9. Pride (Wanda/Steve)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DRUNK PROMPT TIME! WANDA/STEVE + PRIDE.
> 
> ASKED BY KORRASAMIE.

“Good job,” Steve says, patting Wanda on the back while she turns away with a smile.

He can feel eyes on him and he wants to not look, but he can’t help himself and within moments he’s met Natasha’s eyes as she smirks at him over the lip of her water bottle.

He scowls at her but heads towards her, because he knows her, and if she doesn’t get her say privately she’ll do it loudly and publically and he doesn’t want that.

“Shut up,” he says softly, once he’s gotten within hearing distance.

She arches an eyebrow and doesn’t even try to look innocent – not that he’d believe it. “What? I didn’t say anything.”

She’s still smirking at him and he scowls before grabbing the water bottle from her and taking a long pull, pointing a warning finger at her the whole time. She holds her hands up in a mean no harm way, which would be more convincing if he hadn’t seen her demonstrating how she can incapacitate someone while hog-tied not twenty minutes ago.

“Shut up,” he hisses, aware that he’s started to blush.

Her grin broadens and she looks over his shoulder to where he’s sure Wanda is. “Fine, you don’t want to talk to me, I can deal with that.” She says, and then she’s pushing off the table she’s been sitting on and striding towards Wanda before he can grab her and pull her away.

He hears her purr, “Steve is very proud of you,” before he buries his head in his hands and tries to pretend that he’s somewhere else.

She’s worse than Bucky ever was, and that’s saying something.


	10. to the library! (Captain Swan)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DRUNK FIC PROMPT :D - CAPTAIN SWAN + COLLEGE AU + 'WE'RE BOTH DRUNK AND WE DECIDE IT'S A GREAT TIME TO HEAD TO THE LIBRARY TO WORK ON THAT PAPER THAT IS DUE NEXT WEEK'
> 
> ASKED BY KORRASAMIE.

“No, no, Swan – I am sure that is was Franklin who did the lightning thing – it was in an episode of Sleepy Hollow!” Killian is listing dangerously to the side as he does something with his hands that Emma assumes is either to demonstrate the lighting thing or something about Sleepy Hollow – she’s not actually entirely sure.

She squints at him, mostly to get the numbers of him back down to one – one Killian is hard enough to resist, four is just asking for trouble.

“Are you sure?” she asks, with one eye closed and squinted so she can just see the blurry outline of him deftly avoid running into a trash can. He is such a bouncy drunk, she has trouble keeping up.

He nods hard enough that he almost knocks himself over before pausing, hand braced against the side of the library, which they have finally reached. “Yes, yes, absolutely I am sure.”

She steps closer, not because she needs to but because she just can’t help herself. She’s been resisting for so long, but she feels like there’s a magnet wrapped around her ribs that’s constantly dragging her to the ore in his. She pokes his chest and tries to be threatening, though the smile that’s tugging at her lips doesn’t help her cause any. “Are you sure  _sure_? This paper is worth fifteen percent of our grade.”

He draws a wobbly X on his heart and smiles at her, resting his prosthetic hand against her side. “I am totally, one hundred percent sure. I wouldn’t lead you wrong, Emma.”

She leans closer to him. It’s so rare that he uses her first name and it’s like honey on his tongue and –

“Hey, no loitering. Miss, are you okay? Do you need an escort back to your dorm?”

And they’re interrupted by a well-meaning campus police officer.

She rests her forehead against Killian’s chest for a moment before turning to face the five wavering police officers her vision tells here are there, and smiles. “I’m fine! We’re going to work on a paper! Thank you!” and she’s dragging Killian away, his hand warm against hers as she heads to the front doors of the library.


	11. cooking (Kate, Nat, Clint)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KATE BISHOP + COOKING ATTEMPT IN CLINT'S APARTMENT. 
> 
> ASKED BY KORRASAMIE.
> 
> Au Movie 'verse.

“Is that supposed to be on fire?” is the first thing Natasha signs when she walks through the door.

Clint blinks slowly, his coffee hasn’t kicked in yet despite the fact that it’s six in the evening, and turns his head to see flame coming from his stove. He suspects it’s probably making some noise, but since his last run in with a series of bombs killed his hearing aids he can’t even hear a hint of it. At some point he’s going to want to talk to Tony about making new ones – he’d thought the SHIELD ones were small, but Tony’s had been basically a sticker. Damned impressive. Even if Pietro had managed to rip one off as he ran by one of those times. Little bastard.

Natasha ruffles his hair as she goes back. Which is – if he doesn’t trust Kate at a stove (and apparently he shouldn’t) he definitely doesn’t trust Natasha cooking for them.

Which isn’t to say she’s bad at it – he’s not entirely sure, she’s probably amazing at it because he can count on one hand with fingers left over the number of things Natasha isn’t amazing at (points to paranoid cold war planning, he guesses) but because she might put hot sauce in a donut or something just for entertainment value.

It takes him a few minutes to locate his computer – his Stark phone died when he accidentally through it at a mob member (knocked the dude right out though, which gives it huge bonus points) so he’s using an old Nokia that he thinks he might’ve gotten when he was fourteen originally. (He could definitely kill a man by throwing the Nokia at them – it’s roughly the weight of a brick.) Once he’s got his computer he orders a pizza.

He’s pretty sure he doesn’t have cash, but that tends to be the sort of thing Kate can figure out. Or Nat can just convince the guy to give them the pizza for free. (It’s only happened once and Clint had promptly proposed.)

  
By the time he turns back to the kitchen the flame has died down. There aren’t flashing lights so, somehow, the fire alarm hasn’t gone off. That probably means it’s dead and he should fix it, but mostly he’s relieved he’s not going to have to deal with fireman.

Nat and Kate have their heads bent closely together, turned away so he can’t see their lips.

He turns back to the computer and offers a 20% bonus if the pizza comes in the next ten minutes.

**Author's Note:**

> These are all originally from tumblr. And my rule about things posted first to tumblr is that they are drabbles and ergo drabble rules apply. (Drabble rules state that editing is optional.) 
> 
> All mistakes, and I acknowledge that there are probably a lot of them, are my own. If you see any, please don't hesitate to let me know. 
> 
> You can find my writing tumblr [here](http://capriciouswrites.tumblr.com/), where I perpetually accept prompts. My main tumblr is located[ here](http://safelycapricious.tumblr.com/), otherwise. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think.


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